A Little Bit of Goodbye
by bandgirlz
Summary: Nothing to say without giving it all away.  She has to leave, he can't lose her, both blame themselves.  No winners or losers, no right and wrong, just life.  What happens after the end of the fairytale?  Oneshot.


**A Little Bit of Goodbye**

She was gone. He couldn't believe she was gone.

This wasn't how it was supposed to happen. He was supposed to have time—more time. Time to apologize, time to ask for forgiveness, time to be forgiven. Time with her.

But she was gone.

And he was broken.

It wasn't his fault. She didn't know why she had left; not really. Everything was just too much, and at the same time, not enough. It was everything and it was nothing and her life with him just wasn't what she'd expected.

She knew it was the coward's way out. She knew she should have stayed, listened to him apologize, said the words that would make it all okay again and absolve him of any guilt. But she couldn't.

She couldn't forgive him this time. Not because what he'd said was so bad, or because she didn't love him, or even because he didn't deserve it. But because she was tired. So damn fucking tired of this cycle, this merry-go-round that they couldn't seem to get off. Until she had. She'd broken the cycle, stepped off the merry-go-round, soldiered on into uncharted territory. She didn't know what she was looking for. It didn't matter really, as long as it wasn't the same thing, over and over again, on and on without end or change or variation or hope of something new.

Sometimes love wasn't enough.

But sometimes it was. He came after her.

He went after her. He knew it wasn't what he'd said this time. It was just him. She'd left because he couldn't make her happy. He was too normal, too boring, too rigid, too dependent on routine. He liked things the way they were, comfortable, relaxed, solid.

He should have known it wouldn't be enough for her. That he wouldn't be enough for her.

He caught up to her in the rain. The corniness of it all made him smile, but he knew she wasn't smiling. She'd always hated cliches.

"I'm sorry," he said, as the water plastered his hair to his forehead, ran into his eyes, made his clothes cling uncomfortably to his body. "For . . . everything."

She didn't turn around. "You weren't supposed to come after me, Toshiro."

"I'm just supposed to let you walk away?"

"Yeah."

"Not going to happen."

"You can't stop me."

"I didn't say I wanted to."

She looked at him then. Confusion on her face overlaid with annoyance that she couldn't figure him out. She could always figure him out. That was the problem. "What then? How can you not let me walk away without stopping me?"

He grinned then, proud he'd outsmarted her. "I'm going to follow you."

"What?" He would never leave his perfect, comfortable, safe little world. "You can't."

"Why not?"

"B-because—your job—"

"Not important."

"Your—your friends."

"I'll write them."

"Your _stuff_!"

"I don't need it."

"B-but—"

"Tell me you don't want me to go with you and I won't. That's the only thing that matters, Karin. Do you want me or not?"

To have him on her terms. Selfish, she knew, but it was all she'd ever wanted.

It was the routine she couldn't handle. Herself when she was here with him, irritable, prickly, unhappy. Always taking it out on him. Making him feel like he had to apologize.

And he let her. He let her pick away at him, he always did the right thing, always tried to make it right, always begged her forgiveness, always made her feel like such a shrew because she knew she didn't deserve him.

She wasn't cut out to be a wife, a domestic, a caretaker. She'd never grown up and she never wanted to and she was just so damn tired of feeling guilty about it.

But never, once, had she not wanted him.

Could he be happy, with her, somewhere else? Or would he be miserable, too, like her?

He saw the flicker in her eyes, the indecision. He seized on it, holding them captive with his own as he stalked toward her, one long, simple stride at a time.

"Do you want me or not?" he whispered, standing right in front of her, so close he could feel her breath on his cheek. So far away she was almost gone. "I'd go anywhere with you."

With her. Not for her. He gave what she couldn't. He made the sacrifice. He was always the one making the sacrifice.

But he didn't see it that way, and maybe that made it okay?

"Toshiro," she whispered, closing her eyes, taking in the closeness she never thought she'd feel again, never wanted to feel with anyone but him. "I don't—I can't—" _Ask you to do this. Make you miserable. Hurt you like this any more._

"You're making it hard, Karin," he said, fingers tracing the curve of her cheek. So close, she could feel his warmth but not his touch. Her very skin ached for one more brush with his. "Stop making it hard."

"How?" The question felt like it was dragged from the depths of her very soul. And when did she become as trite as the rain?

"Answer the question."

"No." She didn't want to.

Desperation burned in his eyes before resignation replaced it. "No, you don't want me?"

"Yes. I mean, no. I mean—"

He closed his eyes. Closed himself. Turned away. "Make up your mind, Karin. It's not a trick question."

"I know my own mind! It your question that's the problem!" she snapped. "There's no right answer. Yes or no, it means the same thing."

A flicker of hope. Tiny but bright. "Do you want me?" he asked again. "No hesitating, no thinking about it, no deciding. Answer me now."

Brown locked with turquoise. Regret with regret. The future stretched out before her, open and free, but empty. Emptier than now?

She blinked, and the moment was gone. He'd turned away, shoulders slumped, heart left before her on the ground.

"Yes," she whispered. Unable to say it louder, not sure she even wanted him to hear her. Because breaking once just made it easier the second time around. So easy, so painful, so permanent. Endless regret was better than hurting him again.

He stopped, but didn't turn. "Yes, you want me?"

"I want you. I've always wanted you. But you have to want it too."

All he needed to want was her. He turned back, took her hand. "Lead the way."

"Toshiro."

"I'll follow you anywhere."

"I don't know where I'm going."

"Will you know when you're there?"

"Maybe."

He stroked her cheek, kissed her forehead, soaked the feel of her into his very pores. "Then what are we waiting for?"

She didn't deserve him. But at least she knew that.

If she let him go, the next girl might not.

Maybe it was good to be selfish, sometimes.

And maybe, just maybe, she could be happy too.

Leaving didn't have to mean goodbye.

* * *

**A/N:**

I'd hoped this would be an update to Pedestal or Planning for Contingencies, but it seems bits and pieces and drabbles are all I have in me write now. Sat down to write, and this is what came out. Review if you like it, review if you don't. And, if you like, consider this some foreshadowing for PFC. But just a little bit.


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